


poison point

by reform



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Creepslayerz, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, M/M, No Spoilers, Pining, Projection, Steli, im weeping, pepperchuk, pepperpal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 02:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reform/pseuds/reform
Summary: eli shivered against his chest and remembered this wasn’t real.(a short drabble)





	poison point

i.

elijah wouldn’t usually go to bed when his mother told him to. he’d scour through pages of books worn with use by the dim light of his flashlight, or search through countless pages of forums, frozen fingers clicking endlessly until threads ceased to exist and he started again. it was a task he found solace in, until his eyes grew weary and succumbed to sleep, only for his alarm to jolt him rudely awake an hour or two later. he’d curse at himself, mostly for the school day ahead, but also partly for being so selfish.

 

ii.

for once, that night, he was tired when his mother tucked him in and kissed him goodnight.

( _who knows what he would think of that?_ )

“goodnight, elijah,” she would whisper. most nights, he’d stubbornly pull the sheets over his head without a reply, and his mother would hesitantly retire, with the debris of words left unsaid long since swallowed; the all-clear was a gentle click in the corner followed by slow footsteps retreating down the hallway.

 

iii.

but he was motionless when she stooped down, to pull off the glasses he’d forgotten were even there, and press a kiss onto his cheek.

“goodnight, mom.” eli saw genuine surprise in his mother's features.

in that moment, eli turned away into his body pillow, guilt caked into the lines now forming on his forehead. a few moments passed; then came the all clear.

 

iv.

he closed his eyes and remembered why he wasn’t already leagues deep into words, or internet forums. settling further into the sheets, an image formed in his mind, a skill he’d honed.

he held the body pillow closer to his body.

 

v.

the word ( _the name_ ) was already on his tongue; who else would arrive first in his visions, to provide a chest to bury his head in, a hand to graze his hip? pressing his face against the surface, eli imagined his football jersey, the smooth fabric retaining the familiar scent of sweat and fragrant cologne, almost feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of shallow, passionate breath.

 

vi.

this was the next step: whispered vows and pledges into ears. _i promise i promise i promise. i promise i’ll come back for you. i promise i’ll stop hurting you. i promise i’ll look out for you. i promise_.

as much as it pained eli to say those words as if it was out of his mouth, this was his favourite part.

 

vii.

eli shivered against _his_ chest and remembered this wasn’t real.

 

viii.

eventually he fell asleep, hands halfway up his own shirt in an abandoned effort.

( _how desperate must one be to have to conjure up your fantasies in such a way?_ )

 

ix. “ _hey, pepperjack._ ” it was just passing greetings in the hall and invitations (“ _pepperbuddy - another creepslayerz meeting this weekend?_ ”).

nothing more than fuel for the promises he would make to himself that night.

**Author's Note:**

> a suuuuper short self-indulgent drabble because pepperpal is everything :')


End file.
